


Abracadabra

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, M/M, magic gone awry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles pulls a Sabrina. With unexpected results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Want To Reach Out And Grab Ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who said the internet wasn't helpful?

The house finally stops shaking from the the force of the spell. The overhead light explodes causing Stiles to topple over in an ungainly sprawl on the floor to avoid the shattered glass. Raw power courses through the air giving of a sharp smell of ozone before a noxious thick black smoke starts to pour out of the protective chalk drawn circle in the middle of the floor. Stiles yelps before crab-walking backwards toward the window, coughing and hacking on the smoke, to throw the windows open wide. He's starting to think this was a bad idea. Not that he thought it would work in the first place.

He leans his upper body outside the window to drag deep, gasping breaths of air into his lungs. Wisps of black smoke waft over his head, slowly dissipating into the afternoon breeze. Stiles wheezes out into the open window filling his lungs with clean fresh air before turning back to the room, waving the smoke out his eyes so he can see the damage.

The smoke still stings his eyes as he rapidly blinks his tearing eyes. Through the haze he sees a man standing in the middle of the room inside the circle. He's taller than Stiles and seems to loom over the entire room, owning it. He's wearing a leather jacket and a faded grey t-shirt drawn over hard pectoral muscles and doesn't look older than Stiles, maybe two to three years. The man observes him impassively, crossing his arms.

"Let me guess," the guy drawls. "You’re a witch."

"Not really," Stiles admits sheepishly causing the guy to growl. Maybe the spell did work after all. "I dabble! Dabbling. Just a little! I needed help! For a friend!"

Stiles grabs the window frame for support.

"I found this spell in an internet forum," Stiles gestures to his desk teeming with print-outs from various internet forums and Wikipedia articles. "I was kind of desperate, man. I mean, the full moon is in like two days! And I needed help, werewolf help."

"I see," said the guy, uncrossing his arms. “And what makes you think I'm going to help you?"

"Well, you're a werewolf, right?" asks Stiles, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "Oh God, did I summon a vampire? Like we need anymore Twilight shit in our lives right now!"

"Vampires don't exist." The corner of the guy's mouth twitches. "And what do you know about werewolves?"

"They don't? Thank God!" Stiles slumps against the window. "I needed expert advice. And who better than an actual werewolf! And I didn't think this spell would work, I mean, I think half of it came from an episode of Supernatural."

"Why would you need werewolf advice? You're not a werewolf," the guy says, his nose twitching.

"Then you are one! You did that thing with your nose - Scott does that," Stiles says excitedly.

"Scott?" The guy frowns stepping out of the protective circle Stiles had drawn on the floor and moves closer to where Stiles is slumped against the wall.

"Oh man, we need help," Stiles says morosely flinging his hands in the air. "I mean, I'm supposed to be Scott's Yoda except he's not listening to me and he keeps wolfing out during practice and Jackson's already suspicious and now he's dating Allison and he's having dreams of killing her on buses and I've run out of movies to rent to help him. Teen Wolf was no help at all! Michael J. Fox played basketball and everyone loved him! How is that real? And I'm running on like three hours of sleep and eating Adderall like candy. So you gotta help, like Obi-Wan this shit."

"Do you ever come up for air?" The guy says looking down at Stiles.

"That's what you decide to focus on? Is ignoring the obvious a werewolf thing? Because Scott does it all the time."

"This room's a mess," the guy says, making his way to Stiles' desk where his notes are balanced over his biology homework. "Half these runes aren't written properly. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself."

Stiles scowls. "Well excuse me, we can't all be perfect. And I didn't even think this would work. Does that mean I have superpowers? Maybe I could be Batman and Scott would have to be Robin."

The guy looks up from Stiles laptop with a glare. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Not important," Stiles says. "So how long have you been a werewolf?"

"I've always been one," he replies and glances at the unfinished biology homework as he shuffles papers across Stiles' desk. "Stiles, is it?"

"That's me," Stiles answers in a huff. "Crap, that's due tomorrow. Are you going to be mysterious or can I know your name?"

“It's Derek,” says the werewolf. "You can start by telling me who Scott is and how you fit into all of this."

Stiles leverages himself up from the wall. "Great. So can you help us?"

"I never said that," replies Derek, dropping the papers into an even bigger mess on Stiles' desk. "But the fact that you managed to summon a werewolf means you're a danger to yourself and me. And if there's a werewolf running around without a pack - that could attract unwanted attention."

"Danger? Me?"

"You already display some magical talent - unsupervised, who knows what you would do," Derek sniffs in an irritated manner.

"Talent? I'm not even on the honor roll!" says Stiles. "Plus, this isn't about me, it's about Scott."

"Well it's obvious you need help," Derek says, leaning casually against the desk, his shirt riding up on his hips. His eyes sweep over Stiles, lingering on his face and chest in a way that has Stiles' heart racing causing him to be wracked with another coughing fit. Derek's mouth twitches again, his expression turning wry. "Though, you might be beyond help."

Stiles just glowers at him.

"Oh yuck it up, wolf boy."


	2. Everything Is Not What It Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be careful what you wish for.

Stiles breathes easier after he's spilled his guts to Derek about the whole sordid tale of what happened to Scott in the woods and his new lycanthropy problem. He feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest. The day looks brighter.

Derek raises his left eyebrow. "That's it? That's why you summoned me?"

Stiles scowls pulling at his short hair in frustration. "Yes that's it. What, is that not enough?"

"Your friend was bitten?"

"Yes, Captain Obvious! So can you save me a lifetime of nightmares here?" Stiles says looking at him with wide pleading eyes.

Derek appraises Stiles considerately. "Unfortunately, a turned werewolf may not even be able to be taught - especially one who is a hormonal teenager."

"But Scott's a great student," Stiles says earnestly. "The best, well, he's failing English, but aren't we all?"

Derek sniffs in an irritated manner. "My problem isn't with your friend but you. You summoned me and now I'm bound to you. Your work may have been half-assed but it still worked."

"What do you mean bound?" Stiles gulps as Derek’s expression darkens, his eyes flash bright blue and Stiles finds himself pinned up against his bedroom wall, his feet dangling in the air.

"That depends on what you want," hisses Derek in Stiles ear, his stubble rough against Stiles' face and his breath sending goosebumps along Stiles' clavicle.

"Just help Scott! That's it! Offer him some werewolf doggy wisdom!"

Derek's eyes glint as he appraises Stiles. "That's what you want? You want me to help your friend? You don’t want with your magic? Or to be turned?"

Stiles openly balks at Derek.

"Oh hell no! I have enough problems with Scott running around chasing squirrels," Stiles says as he shakes his head vehemently, hitting the wall. "And magic? What magic? No magic here."

Stiles holds his hands out in a placating gesture and the last light bulb in the ceiling fan explodes leaving the room bathed in the light of the candles surrounding the pentagram on the floor.

Derek smiles a that's all teeth and sniffs the air. "Really."

"Scout's honor." Stiles will never admit his voice squeaked.

Derek releases his grip on Stiles and if it wasn't for the wall, Stiles would have buckled under.

"Then I guess you should introduce me to your friend."

Well that was unexpected.

\---

Stiles left Derek and Scott in the woods. Well, more like Derek told him to get lost. Which was fine by Stiles, the less involved he was the better - plus he had some serious research to do. Time to marathon some _Wizards of Waverly Place_.

It's not until after midnight when he gets woken up from the couch by his phone ringing.

"Hello?" he mumbles groggily as he sits up from the couch.

"Stiles! It worked! He showed me how to control the shift!" Scott says and Stiles can picture his friend's dopey grin stretched across his face.

"That's great buddy! You know what this means?"

"Yeah! I can finally go out with Allison," replies Scott.

"No, I meant you won't kill me," says Stiles rubbing his eyes blearily.

There is a pause on the line.

"Oh yeah, that too," says Scott hastily.

"Yeah, I can tell where your priorities are," sighs Stiles. "So did Derek leave?"

It took an hour to clean up the chalk and candle wax from the floor. He was not repeating that anytime soon. No matter how hot the guy who showed up was.

"He said he had get home to his family," says Scott. "He was really helpful."

"At least something went to plan," mumbles Stiles. "So he told you how to make it through the full moon?"

"Yeah," Scott says jubilantly. "No worries. I'll be fine."

Stiles rubs his forehead. Scott is infamous at living in the land of denial. Stiles should know, he's learned from the best.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! I'm going to call Allison, see you tomorrow."

And Stiles was left with a dial tone.

"Oh, well if Scott thinks he's OK then everything must be," he says in a falsetto voice before tossing his phone on the coffee table.

\---

Stiles' a little keyed up from the impending full moon. It doesn't help that Scott is walking on air since dating Allison and is high off his first win in lacrosse. Stiles wishes he could be that happy. Bad enough his dad is investigating mountain lion attacks and hasn't been home for a good night's rest in almost a week. So it's a little bit surprising that Stiles walks in on Derek lounging across his bed reading one of his textbooks.

"Oh my God!" yelps Stiles holding his door frame. "How did you get in?"

Derek merely turns the page.

"Your dad let me in before he left," says Derek, non-pulsed. "Nice guy."

"Did you clean?" The papers and DVDs on his desk were sorted into piles and his laundry was actually in the hamper and his window was open letting in a fresh breeze. He squints at Derek lying on his bed - his bed is actually made.

"You live in a sty, I don't know how Scott stands to hang out here with you," Derek says as he turns another page.

"Hey, I smell delightful. Tasty even," scowls Stiles. "And we had a deal! You taught Scott how to howl at the moon without killing the townsfolk and you can go on your merry way and not be in my room."

Stiles seemed to have worn off what little patience Derek had since he snapped the book closed and stalked towards Stiles.

"And I underestimated you," growls Derek, invading Stiles personal space. "It's funny how our deal can never be done."

"What?" Stiles blinks and stumbles back to put some space in between him and Derek only to be stopped by his wall.

"I'm never going to be done helping Scott - he's a loose cannon. I'm surprised he hasn't been killed by hunters already."

"Hunters?" Stiles squeaks out before saying it again more deeply. " _Hunters_?"

"Yes, _hunters_. My family has decided due to my situation that Scott needs full time monitoring."

"That's good?" Stiles asks tentatively. Derek growls.

"You don't understand, I am driven to help you. I need you to break this spell," Derek bites out, his eyes flashing blue that sends all the wrong shivers down Stiles' spine.

Stiles eyes widen and against his better judgement, he opens his mouth.

"Okay, I get that you’re mad about the summoning thing – my bad, all right? But can't we let bygones be bygones? I mean, I don’t want to live in mortal fear for the rest of my life however short it seems to be getting. I’m sure you really don’t want me hanging around you - I never stop talking, like I talk in my sleep sometimes."

"So it'll be further incentive to undo it."

"Hey, I'm working on it," Stiles says.

"By watching _Sabrina_?" Derek says in a dry deadpan, his mouth twitching.

"How was I supposed to know it wasn't the prequel to Melissa Joan Hart going to Rome?" Stiles huffs. He was not going to mention watching the remake. He had some dignity.

"This isn't a joke!"

"Whoa easy buddy!" says Stiles. Derek's nostrils flare. "I mean, pal, friend - oh God please don't eat me!"

The windows rattled and the lights flickered with a surge of power. Derek raises his eyebrows and appraises Stiles who had his eyes closed.

"Well, maybe I won't have to tear out your throat after all," Derek laughs dryly.

"Joy," Stiles mutters sarcastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kind reviews! You guys rock! So the hurricane didn't drown me. Yay! Though internet was touch and go for awhile. Tragic, I know. Marathoned Teen Wolf and tried to get characterisations down pat. *shrugs* Then rewatched some Big Wolf on Campus and trolled for Sabrina. Unbeta'd so be kind. Currently listening to a compilation of songs on magic and werewolves. So I'm inspired. Writing is hard. Time for tea. Comments are love. The _Sabrina_ Stiles watched was [ this one](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabrina_%281954_film%29). Sadly he did not read the summary before watching. And [ Sabrina the Teenage Witch did go to Rome](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabrina_Goes_to_Rome) \- ah my childhood.


	3. It's The Power That's Far Beyond The Wildest Notion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Research mode is a sexy mode.

Stiles is glad that his dad's going to be out for the next two days which saves him from lying which he seems to be doing a lot in these past few days. Whether about Scott and his furry problem or the reason the house smelt like transmission oil (not to mention his grades).

Magic on TV always looks so clean. He wasted almost a whole bottle of rug cleaner to salvage his bedroom floor. And Derek says his room still smells? Well Stiles is done with cleaning especially for Derek's sake. Bad enough his floor is strewn with papers as Derek and him try to sort through them.

"This is the spell you used?" says Derek thrusting a crumpled paper into his face. Almost three quarters of the page is highlighted.

"No," begins Stiles looking up from sorting through his own pile. "I kind of combined two spells."

"Combined," Derek grits out, his left eye is twitching. "You combined spells? You could have killed me! And yourself!"

"Well gee, how was I supposed to know any of this would work? I mean, magic isn't supposed to exist!" Stiles throws his arms in the air and falls backwards on the floor. They've been sifting through papers for most of the evening, his legs are starting to fall asleep.

"Werewolves exist," counters Derek.

"Well, believe me I wish they didn't," mutters Stiles only to have Derek growl at him. "Whoa! Calm down, I didn't mean it that way. But come on! This kind of stuff isn't supposed to happen. I shouldn't have to worry that my best friend will kill me at the drop of a hat."

There's a brief reprieve from the endless paper shuffling on Derek's side of the floor.

"Scott's tried to kill you?" Derek asks, his voice quiet. Looking up Stiles gets caught in Derek's piercing gaze.

"Yeah, well he didn't mean too," defends Stiles, Scott apologized after. Derek frowns, his eyes flashing bright blue in a different way from before - for once Stiles doesn't think Derek's angry at him.

"That's no excuse," says Derek. "Werewolves don't hurt their own pack."

Now it's Stiles turn to be confused. "Pack?"

Derek gives him a withering look before speaking again - it almost looks like he didn't want to talk but is compelled to do it anyway.

"Pack, it's not confined to just blood family. You two share each others' scent like brothers would. Our wolf side can sense that. It's as plain as day to me that you're part of Scott's pack. If Scott can't sense that then tomorrow night is going to be harder than I thought."

"So you're saying I smell?" says Stiles. "Maybe that's why Danny doesn't like me."

Derek sighs in a put upon manner.

"Are you serious?"

Stiles shrugs before pulling himself back up in a sitting position. "No, I get it. Well, I'm trying anyway. Sometimes I think I'm more prepared to be a werewolf than Scott is."

Derek stares at him seeming to be listening for something Stiles can't hear before shaking his head and sneezing.

"You'd make a terrible werewolf," mutters Derek, rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

"Now you're just being mean," says Stiles grabbing another paper from the floor. "Hurtful even."

"I call 'em like I see it," says Derek his eyes crinkling with amusement. It was a good look on him. Not that Stiles was checking him out or anything. Stiles felt his face heat regardless - it kind of sucked being a teenager. Derek's nose twitched while he was reading.

He stretches backwards to pick up another paper causing his shirt to creep up his stomach before sitting back down. Derek stares at him with his head cocked to the side. Stiles rubs his head self-consciously and looks down at the paper to prevent himself from staring at Derek. Derek is starting to have a weird effect on his mental state. He even worse than Lydia which doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, this looks familiar," he says grabbing his trusty highlighter and circles a passage already highlighted in bright green. "It was definitely this one, plus the one you had before and I kind of muttered that song from _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_ at the end before the smoke came out from the floor."

Derek looks like he's either in pain or trying not to laugh. Stiles is familiar with that expression, his dad makes it a lot when Stiles tells him about school.

"Please tell me you're joking."

Stiles gives a weak chuckle and watches Derek flop backwards on the floor in disgust.

"You are the worst witch I've ever met," says Derek.

Stiles frowns. "Well, that's a bit harsh."

Derek scrubs his hands across his eyes before doing a full body stretch. Stiles is glad that Derek doesn't notice that his shirt has ridden up. It should be criminal to hide those abs. Stiles kind of wishes he had abs.

"I mean, _The Worst Witch_ was pretty badass," he rambles because he needs something else to think about rather than Derek's exposed stomach.

"How much TV do you watch?" Derek grunts.

"Not that much," Stiles scowls. "Plus now we know what I did."

Derek sits up, and his shirt regrettably falls back into place. "You're untrained and there are half a dozen unaccounted variables."

"Right," says Stiles. Research mode it is. "So we'll start by watching _Charmed_? Maybe _Bewitched_? My mom always loved that show." It's at that moment that Stiles stomach decided to growl. "And supper?"

A smile breaks across Derek's face that kind of wrecks Stiles for future smiles. It is pretty lethal.

"It couldn't hurt," Derek sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, I've been told my story resembles one written by [](http://aggybird.livejournal.com/)[**aggybird**](http://aggybird.livejournal.com/) which was unintentional but entirely probable - though I just read it today and my fic is taking a completely different direction but regardless, I see the point made. It was unintentional and I am all for giving credit where credit is due. If anything I thought my story resembled the plot of _You Slay Me_ written by Katie MacAlister which has all sorts of summoning which never really works out, a couple of episodes from _Aladdin the Animated Series_ , _Hercules the Animated Series_ and yeah, credit where credit is due. I apologize. I've read enough of everything for it to seep in from all corners. Hopefully that makes sense? If not, I encourage you to read the other stories - though _You Slay Me_ is kind of a terrible series after the first two. Just my opinion. But regardless - my apologies. _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_ is the trippiest Disney movie ever. Like it's straight up Doctor Who like. And I used to love watching _The Worst Witch_. It was pre-Harry Potter but it was a school for witches and she had a bat for a familiar and OMG it was the cutest show ever. Unbeta'd so be kind and comments are love. Thank you so much for your kind words! ♥ It's been a tough day so it cheers me up that people are enjoy this fic, or what have you.


	4. I Put A Spell On You And Now You're Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't go throwing magic around, who knows, it could work.

In an abstract way, it's nice having someone around at suppertime, like it fills the house up. Makes it feel lived in. Since the recent animal attacks and Scott's bite, Stiles feels he's drifting from his dad. He was planning to shoulder his way into his dad's squad car if his dad didn't take a break soon - he'd even let his dad have some curly fries.

Derek is an actual asset in the kitchen which is slightly bewildering and makes Stiles' heart twist in a way he can't explain.

"Pasta looks done," says Derek snapping Stiles from his thoughts which forces him to refocus on cutting the celery for the salad.

"Thanks," nods Stiles and tosses the chopped vegetables over the bowl of lettuce. "Just grab a seat."

Derek grabs the salad and plates and heads to the table cluttered with Stiles half-assed cobbled together spell.

Stiles assembles the pasta on autopilot and finds himself across from Derek at his small kitchen table. It's kind of surreal. Dinner with a werewolf.

"Dinner is served," he declares and digs in. It's only after a beat that he notices Derek's not eating but staring at him in morbid fascination.

"Whut?" he asks, his mouth stuffed with a combination of pasta and salad.

Derek shakes his head and makes a grab for the food. "I'm shocked you haven't choked to death. Did you even chew any of that?"

"Well excuse me Ms. Manners," huffs Stiles, taking the time to swallow what was left in his mouth and swipe the sauce off his upper lip with his tongue, oblivious to Derek's eyes tracking the motion. "I'll have you know I haven't choked on anything I've put in my mouth. I can swallow just fine."

Derek just raises his eyebrows.

"Wait, that sounded less dirty in my head," Stiles mutters before he decides to proactively shut himself up by stuffing more pasta in his mouth. He feels flushed.

"Right," Derek drawls out.

An unfamiliar ringtone breaks the awkward tension.

Derek actually looks startled before grabbing at his left pants' pocket.

" _Hello?_ " he says gruffly. If Stiles wasn't sitting across from him, he'd never believe it but Derek's face broke into a grin, it was a good thing Stiles was sitting because it made him a little weak at the knees. Like when Lydia was his lab partner last year, he destroyed half the chemistry department's glassware when she told him he wasn't completely useless. This felt like that but ten fold and Derek wasn't even directing it towards him.

" _Hi Mom_ ," Derek continues, oblivious to Stiles mental freakout. " _No we took a break for supper - Stiles made pasta - yeah, I found the spell - of course I'm being nice - no you don't have to send Laura - Mom! I'm handling it!_ "

Derek actually pouts - it's kind of devastating. It brings a new definition to puppy dog eyes. " _No I didn't call Uncle Peter - I can find a hotel - no - I'm nineteen, not some cub - no I know you worry but - yeah, wait._ "

Derek looks towards Stiles who is trying to be nonchalant about eavesdropping.

"She wants to talk to you." Derek actually rolls his eyes.

Stiles chokes on air which earns him a mocking grin from Derek.

"Fine," he manages to say before grabbing the cell.

" _Hello? - Stiles Stilinski, ma'am - no that's not really my name - well no one really can pronounce my name - I'm sure you can Mrs. Hale - no that's alright - oh well - yeah I didn't mean to - my friend needed help - no I really am trying - well he hasn't threatened me much - oh well - we do have a guest room - I really don't think - oh - no - no ma'am - yes - OK - bye._ "

Stiles is left with the dial tone and a bewildered expression. "I'm not sure what happened - she - and then -" he tosses the phone at Derek like it's radioactive. He catches it without looking. "How did she? I mean I tried."

His eyes plead for understanding. Derek looks like he's gearing up to toss Stiles into a wall. He knows Derek isn't overly fond of him right now what with the whole compulsion spell and summoning out of the blue.

"Relax, Stilinski," Derek says, his lips giving a small twitch, like he enjoys messing with him. "She does that."

"Oh," Stiles wilts. "So I guess you know?"

"That I'm staying here? Yeah, better than staying with my uncle - he's a bit of a black sheep in our family. I hope you don't mind seeing you put me in this mess," he says, his eyes hardening. "Right?"

"Hey! I told you, I didn't plan this," Stiles says, waving at the papers on the table. Derek let's out a low growl. "I mean, mi casa es su casa."

Derek huffs out a low laugh. "You roll over fast."

Stiles wants to wipe that shit eating smirk of his face. "Keep that up and I'll call your mom."

"You wouldn't," growls Derek.

"Try me," bites out Stiles happy to have some leverage over the werewolf.

There's a silent standoff that's broken by Stiles' stomach growling. Derek let's out a surprised laugh.

Stiles counts that as a win.

\----

Derek actually agrees to watching TV after supper. Stiles chalks that up to the motherly force that is Mrs. Hale. It's was hard to get a word in edgewise with her and Derek seems to be in a better mood since eating.

Stiles sacks out on the loveseat leaving Derek the couch to sprawl out on in an obscene manner. Stiles busies himself with the TiVo remote to avoid being caught gawking.

"You have got to be kidding me," says Derek when the opening titles to _Wizards of Waverly Place_ starts up.

"You vetoed _True Blood_ ," states Stiles without remorse.

"That's because it's an affront to werewolves everywhere," mutters Derek darkly.

"You're just pissed that Sookie picked a vampire," says Stiles. "I bet you have a Team Jacob t-shirt."

"Whatever," grumbles Derek.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," snarks Stiles with glee before a pillow is thrown at his head with deadly accuracy followed by a low growl. "Touchy, touchy."

There's a ten minute lull where Stiles gets to enjoy Selena Gomez flutter about the screen before Derek growls in frustration.

"You can't seriously believe this can help you? It's not even accurate," gripes Derek.

"And you know how?"

"It's not even Latin!" he groans and drops his head against the back of the couch.

"Huh, so you're saying if I said ' _Accio Derek_ ' nothing would happen?"

Unknowingly, his eyes flash a molten amber before Stiles barely has time to brace himself for Derek's hard body sprawled on top of him in an awkward fashion. The lights in the living room flicker mockingly.

"Oops," Stiles says trying to catch his breath. Derek's body is warm and compact on top of him, his face close enough to his own that they're sharing the same air. "At least I didn't say ' _Avada Ked-_ '"

Derek's hand shoots out from his side to cover his mouth and silences Stiles with a low growl. Stiles is tempted to lick his hand in retaliation. His eyes widen at Derek's glare.

"We're watching the news."

\---

Stiles is able to talk himself out of being gagged by promising not to utter anything mildly magical. But only just. He had the overwhelming urge to talk about his feelings on Harry Potter. There were so many.

"We'll do the spell after the full moon," declares Derek.

"Why wait? I mean I'm sure you want to be back with your pack," says Stiles. From what he's gathered, Derek's family is pretty awesome.

Derek eyes him considerately before continuing. "I promised my parents that I'd look after Scott - apparently my uncle isn't answering his phone."

Stiles feels like there is a story there but asking Derek too many questions is like playing Russian roulette.

"Also letting an untrained witch run wild on a full moon is just asking for trouble."

"Oh," mutters Stiles. He feels like he's being excluded. Like when his dad won't take him along to crime scenes or when Scott runs off with Allison or at every lacrosse game. He's mature, he can handle pressure.

"There's also the fact that we're still missing your trigger," continues Derek with a frown.

"My trigger?"

"You're worse than Scott - we have no idea how your magic works or why it started," Derek sighs in frustration. He looks at Stiles with an intensity that has him itching to do something.

"Was there anything special about yesterday?"

"Special? Not really," Stiles says, scratching the back of his head. "I mean, I was worried about Scott and got a ton of chem homework, which was unfair since it was my birthday I mean, who gets homework on their birthday? Derek, why are you staring at me?" he freezes, his eyes going wide.

"Your sixteenth birthday?" Derek exhales audibly.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is mainly to move the plot along I suppose though things happen. *shrugs* I consider it their quasi-date. Do you? Anyway. Unbeta'd so be kind and comments are love. Thank you so much for your kind words! ♥ It's been a tough couple of days so it's lovely to come home to these awesome comments that make me smile. And please forgive the utter misuse of Harry Potter spells - but I figure anyone would do the same if presented with the opportunity. It's not like he used a hex. And if Derek sounds out of character, well his family is alive so he's had a pretty nice life, what with not being shot at by gun-ho hunters and living in dilapidated houses and trying to avenge his sister's killer and being a wanted fugitive. So yeah. He's going to be less angsty and prone to violence.


	5. Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family histories are important. And so are dances.

Derek looks ready to punch a hole through the drywall and Stiles has had enough with werewolves being interior decorators with his car so he holds up his hands to placate him.

"I didn’t think it was relevant," Stiles shrugs. With his dad working odd hours, they decided to celebrate his birthday on the weekend rather than during the week plus there was the whole werewolf thing which basically trumps everything else in his next to non-existent social calendar.

"Relevant?!" shouts Derek, throwing his arms in the air. "A witch coming of age isn’t relevant?"

"Oh my god," says Stiles in awe, ignoring Derek’s frustrated growl. "I'm Sabrina."

"I didn’t say that," says Derek, crossing his arms.

Stiles just grins.

"Oh but I am!"

"There aren't any Stilinski recorded as witches," declares Derek, frowning at Stiles, perplexed.

"Oh and you know everyone, Mr. _I have 50 friends on facebook_."

"What?" Derek growls, his hackles raising.

"I looked you up," says Stiles, offhandedly.

"So you googled me?" Derek smirks, his grin a shade under shit-eating.

"Don’t be flattered, I google everybody." It was kind of cute how most of Derek’s friends were his cousins and nieces.

Derek's face sobers almost instantly and stares at him with a quiet intensity that has Stiles flushing at the scrutiny.

"You said your name was Stiles Stilinski," he draws out, slowly appraising Stiles.

"Yeah, well, Genim Stilinski, actually," says Stiles offhandedly, his face heating in embarrassment. "But no one calls me that. My mom was the only one; it was my grandfather’s name. You know, she was a stickler for tradition. Man, she used to love Halloween."

He smiles softly at the memory. Halloween used to be his mom’s favourite holiday. She went all out with the decorating. They used to have enough candy till January.

Derek looks at Stiles incredulously.

" _Genim_."

"Oh hey, you actually said it properly," beams Stiles. Not even Scott can say it right.

"Unbelievable," mutters Derek, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhales in frustration. "I need to make some calls."

He fishes out his cell phone and walks out of the kitchen leaving Stiles standing there bewildered.

"Hey! What did I say? Derek?"

Derek just shoots him a look that just shy of a full blown aneurysm face so Stiles decides it’s best to be quiet. For now. And eavesdrop from the kitchen.

\---

The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught so Stiles scrounges the fridge for the ice cream he’s hidden behind the frozen peas from his dad and tries to listen to Derek’s voice in the other room. He’s heard his name thrown around and something about his grandfather but by the sounds of it. Derek isn’t pleased with whoever is talking to him - probably his sister or mother by the way the conversation is going.

Stiles takes two bowls out and goes about dividing out the ice cream between them. Derek seems to respond well to being fed.

Derek storms back into the kitchen twenty minutes later looking more irritated than before. Stiles looks up from his bowl.

"Here's what's going to happen, I'm going to take Scott to the woods tomorrow night. You will stay here and then we'll break the spell. Clear?"

Derek's face looks flushed and his chest his heaving in a distracting way forcing Stiles to ignore his ice cream.

"OK," Stiles stretches out the word like he's afraid to make any sudden movements because Derek looks ready to explode. "Ice cream? We've got sprinkles."

He holds out the other bowl. Derek's eyes soften and lose their icy blueness. The tension in his shoulders deflates somewhat.

"I can do sprinkles."

Derek slumps at the island across from Stiles as he slides a bowl of ice cream to Derek.

"Great, then maybe you can tell me who the "Great Sorcerer Genim" was," he says, using air quotes.

Derek just stuffs Stiles' spoon into his mouth.

"You talk too much," Derek says and grabs the sprinkles. Stiles just rolls his eyes and licks the spoon.

\---

Stiles texts his dad to tell him Derek is staying over. He's surprised that his dad is more than OK with it which makes him believe Derek actually was more than monosyllabic with his dad. Weird.

Though it wasn't uncommon for Stiles to have friends stay over, mostly Scott. Well, only Scott.

His dad actually seemed happy that someone else was in the house. Apparently there was an animal on the loose. That makes Stiles frown and sends a quick text to Scott about skyping. He gets a response almost instantaneously which eases some of the tension in his shoulders.

With that in mind, Stiles grabs blankets from the hall closet and gives a knock to the guest room with his right foot. The door swings open to reveal a shirtless Derek holding Stiles' orange and blue striped shirt.

"Stiles - this no fit," he grumbles and yanks at the collar before tossing the shirt on the bed like it personally offended him. Stiles is momentarily distracted by the flexing exposed pectorals but snaps out of it when Derek clears his throat.

"Uh, well we can't all be built like brick houses," Stiles stutters with shrug. "Here's some extra blankets."

He drops them on the bed over the shirt and tries to will the thought of a half-naked Derek from his mind. But it refuses to leave.

"So, see you in the morning?" He refuses to admit his voice breaks in the middle of that sentence.

Derek sniffs the air in a considering manner, coupled with piercing look, making Stiles feel like he's under a microscope and his pulse jump. No one has looked at him like he's an interesting puzzle worth solving.

"Night," drawls out Derek, his gaze never wavering. Stiles' face flushes and he coughs awkwardly before bee-lining to his room. His neck feels warm. It's only behind his door that he breathes easier though his heart is still beating too fast.

\---

Stiles stumbles down the stairs blearily and has to do a double take at seeing Derek in boxers and a faded Beacon Hills Police Department t-shirt. Stiles blinks once then twice before shaking his head and deciding to drown in a cup of coffee.

"Morning," he mumbles as he grabs a mug and goes on auto-pilot to get coffee. Derek nods as he continues to read the morning paper and slurp a bowl of Cheerios. The pot is almost full and still warm so it takes less time for him to add an ungodly amount of whipped cream to his mug before taking a large gulp.

He wakes up somewhat to Derek staring at him in morbid fascination.

"What?" he asks. "Do I have something on my face?"

He makes an abortive attempt to wipe his face. Derek’s eyes crinkle and he shakes his head before returning to his cereal. Stiles shrugs and stretches his arms with a big yawn.

"I talked to Scott last night," he says, grabbing the box of cereal and sits across from Derek. "We may have a problem with tonight."

Derek twitches and looks like he swallowed something sweet and sour all at once. It's a good look for him, Stiles muses. Especially with the bedhead he’s rocking.

"What kind of problem?"

"We-ll," Stiles draws out. "Tonight is the winter formal."

Derek gives him a hard look.

"And it kind of slipped my mind, what with me being dateless due to Lydia having standards," he continues quickly, scratching his head. It's funny, he hasn't given her much thought in the past couple of days. His brain is still replaying the best of _Derek: The Shirtless Wonder_.

"Lydia?" Derek sniffs but doesn’t give Stiles his trademark glare.

"Yeah, story of my life, always being second string," Stiles sighs and looks down at his cereal bowl, not noticing Derek’s frown. "I’m not even attractive to gay guys."

Derek looks at Stiles considerately and opens his mouth but is cut off by Stiles.

"But that’s not the point, the point is," Stiles says, pointing his spoon at Derek. "I skyped Scott last night and he has locked down a date with Allison and is going."

Derek’s eyes harden. "Unacceptable."

"See, that’s what I said. But you know Scott, well you don’t know Scott, but yeah. He’s going."

Stiles lifts his bowl in time for when Derek flips the table with a harsh growl.

"You’re cleaning that up, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is developing more plot than I ever intended but, wow, I am so happy that everyone is enjoying this fic. Thank you so much for your kind words! ♥ You rock! Unbeta'd so be kind.


	6. Man With The Hex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witches aren't magicians. And magicians aren't ones for tricks.

Derek disappears to God knows where shortly after breakfast abruptly ended with a gruff promise to be back later. Stiles waits for about five minutes before he's sure Derek gone before grabbing the first shirt he found and half trips into his jeans as he makes his way out of the house. He can't afford another tardy especially if he wants the slimmest chance to play in a lacrosse game this year.

He barely makes it to homeroom on time, slipping in right after the bell. Scott's already there and despite his best efforts, Stiles can't get his best friend's attention. He almost falls into Danny's lap trying to catch Scott's eye. He gives up when Danny shoots him a glare.

Stiles stews silently in his next three Scott-less classes before bolting to the cafeteria to intercept his friend at the entrance.

"Scott!" he pulls Scott into a deserted classroom. "We have to talk."

"Listen, Stiles. I know what you're going to say, but really, nothing you say will stop me from going tonight. Allison's finally forgiven me for giving her the run around, I am not going to mess that up," Scott says vehemently, tugging out of Stiles' death grip.

"I'm a witch and think I'm having a sexual identity crisis," he says without pausing for air. "Or can you just be gay for one guy?"

Scott gapes at him in shock before blinking owlishly at his friend. "That's a lot of information to process in thirty seconds."

Stiles rubs the heels of his hands into his tired eyes.

"Okay," Scott exhales. "Like you can do tricks?"

"I'm _magical_ damn it," Stiles glares. "I'm not a magician. And they do illusions. Tricks are something -"

"A whore does for money," Scott finishes parroting with a grin before sobering into silent contemplation at his friend's obvious distress. "Is this about Danny not finding you hot? Because-"

"I'm having a big gay freak out and you focus on _that_?"

"Hey, I'm a great listener," Scott says, laying a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Well, how do you feel about Lydia?"

Stiles huffs out a breath and tries to bring Lydia's delectable image to the forefront of his mind. Her image flickers before being replaced by a shirtless Derek. Perfect abs and all.

"Still a creamy dream of unattainability," he sighs and shakes his head trying to dislodge the instant replay of Derek's abs from this morning's breakfast.

"That answers your question then," Scott grins before shooting Stiles a concern look. "How much Adderall have you be mainlining?"

"None," Stiles sighs wearily. Between Derek staying the night and rushing through breakfast, he's been too keyed up to take any. "This really hasn't helped."

"Should we hug this out?" asks Scott giving him a soulful hangdog pout. Stiles lets Scott pull him into a loose hug which helps slow down his erratic heartbeat.

"You smell weird," Scott wrinkles his nose after taking a deep breath from Stiles' shoulder.

"Way to ruin the bromance, Scott," grimaces Stiles. His shirt is clean, despite morally offending Derek's body last night.

"Just not like your self," Scott frowns. "Weird."

"Okay, stop smelling me," says Stiles pulling away from the hug.

"I'm still going to the dance," declares Scott crossing his arms, scenting the air experimentally.

"I really hate you right now," glares Stiles.

"Dude I can totally tell you're lying," smirks Scott. "See, I got this werewolf stuff in the bag."

Stiles just pulls at his short hair in frustration and reminds himself that violence isn't the answer. No matter how appealing.

\---

Stiles manages to make it through the day without anything supernatural happening. He scrounges together some clothes to wear for the formal and spends thirty minutes in front of the bathroom mirror trying to subdue a cowlick before giving up. He walks back to his room attempting to tie a Windsor knot, his tongue poking out in concentration, and nearly has a heart attack.

"Jesus Christ!" he yelps, clutching at his door frame. "Ninjas make more noise than you."

Derek just smirks from his perch on Stiles' desk.

"Are you wearing a suit?" Stiles asks, eyeballing Derek suspiciously. Stiles self-consciously tugs at his tie, Derek looks ten times better than him in his black suit compared to Stiles' haphazard sport's coat and khaki combo. He even had his hair gelled.

"What?" Derek shoots him an irritated look.

"Nothing! You look good. I mean-" he trails off awkwardly, his face flushing a light pink which has Derek assessing him speculatively. "Never mind," he finally exhales before noticing his mobile in Derek's left hand.

"Hey, that's my phone," squawks Stiles and grabs it from Derek's hand. He cradles it in his hands close to his chest, shooting Derek a dark look.

"Relax, it's not like I threw it into a wall," says Derek, rolling his eyes. "I gave you my number. In case."

"Man, you really think tonight is going to go all pear shaped," frowns Stiles, scrolling through his contacts. Derek somehow programmed his number into his speed dial. Right after his dad and bumped down Scott to number three.

Derek lets out a low growl of frustration. Stiles nearly misses Derek's eyes flicker from warm hazel and ice blue. He steadfastly ignores the flutter effect it has on his stomach. "Let's just get this over with."

"Yeah. Just let me find my Axe body spray," Stiles says, turning to his desk.

"No," says Derek, abruptly making a weird abortive move to Stiles' shoulder.

"Huh?" Stiles turns his head back to Derek. He wishes he had time to shower when he got home especially since Derek's the second werewolf to comment about his body odor.

"You smell better without it," he grits out awkwardly which makes Stiles sniff his left arm pit in contemplation.

"Come on, we're taking my car," says Derek grabbing Stiles' arm and pushing him down the hallway.

"Huh? What? No!" Stiles manages to slip out of Derek's grip when Derek pushes him out of the house. He turns around and locks the front door before following Derek down the porch stairs. Derek merely arches his eyebrow before jangling familiar looking keys.

"Wait! Those are mine!" Stiles grabs his now empty jacket pocket in confusion before he makes an abortive grab for them. Derek's too fast and is already down the driveway.

"My car, my rules," says Derek walking to the black Camaro boxing in Stiles' jeep in the driveway. Stiles is a little gobsmacked by the ethereal beauty before him.

"I want to go to there." He reaches out to touch the hood of the sleek black car but is jerked to the passenger' side.

"Get in."

If Stiles didn't know any better, he'd think he was on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written half on a Starbucks coffee cup and in my trusty wee pocketbook on my adventures to T-O for Thanksgiving. I blame this chapter entirely on amazing Ten Ren tea and cupcakes from around the downtown Toronto area. This chapter is short, mainly to build up the next chapter though it has a lot of delicious plot points. Unbeta'd so be kind. Comment are love! ♥ And everyone should check out robanybody's wonderful fanmix she made for this fic, [ Breaking The Hearts of Honest Men](http://robanybody.livejournal.com/576249.html#cutid1) is an amazing listen. A delight to the ears. And if you can spot my shout out to _Arrested Development_ you get a shiny gold star. :)


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